The Library Assignation
by Beckyseyedoc
Summary: Amy finds herself in an old library, soon to be subject to the drudgery of another family obligation, when to her delight and dismay Sheldon surreptitiously finds her. Amy knows there will be trouble if her mother discovers them together... A "one-shot" for DrWackaDoodle and nibbler747's challenge for a "fluffy, happy ShAmy story."


A/N: This is my contribution to DrWackaDoodle and nibbler747's challenge, for a piece regarding Sheldon and Amy and a "fluffy, happy story." While "fluffy" may not be the best word to describe this, I hope that it will bring you a happy respite from the angst of the start of season 9.

No ownership of these characters is expressed or implied.

* * *

Fading late afternoon light entered the room from the west through old, high-set stained glass windows. The chamber smelled of the mustiness of decades and centuries-old books, with a faint overlying hint of herbs, circulated by a ceiling fan in silent motion. The aroma of both held peace for Amy. Books had ever and always been her friend, calling her home with the promise of the comfort of her ever-increasing knowledge. This room was inundated by them – all four walls held shelf after shelf of books of all sizes, and in varying states of repair. _A personal library for someone at some time_ , Amy thought.

The overlying tinge of herb? Amy looked down at the mug beside her on the table, lifted it, and took a sip of the hot tea. Amy's hands were warmed by the heat seeping through the sides of the ceramic vessel, and her throat and stomach were calmed by the soothing beverage. Amy closed her eyes, relishing both the heat and the flavor.

The saleswoman from the specialty tea and spice store earlier this week had been so helpful. This draught was exactly what the doctor ordered today.

In particular, what Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler, neurobiologist, ordered.

Amy opened her eyes once more, and set the mug back on the portable warmer on the desk in front of her. She looked into the mirror in front of her for what seemed the millionth time, and was amazed once again at her reflection. Why on Earth she let Penny and Bernadette talk her into going to their cosmetologist over this, Amy doubted she would ever know. But the effect was impressive, Amy had to admit. Her hair, usually a muted and monochromatic shade of brown, shone with natural highlights uncovered in the dimming light. Normally straight as an arrow, today Amy's tresses framed her face in gentle waves. Amy's mother had begged Amy to see a professional about her hair in the past, but Amy had steadfastly refused. Maybe her mother was onto something, after all.

But no amount of wrangling from her mother or her friends would convince Amy that assistance with her makeup was necessary. _Really_ , Amy thought, rolling her eyes once again in front of the mirror. Yet another family obligation didn't mean that Amy needed to slather on makeup with a trowel, enough to look like a painted lady. Simple foundation, light blush, and Amy's favorite modest red lip gloss were all she needed. Amy was determined – she would keep a part of herself this day, no matter what her mother or her friends thought.

 _Speaking of which_ … Amy picked herself and her mug of tea up, and walked the short distance from the desk to a soft, leather chaise lounge. To the side of the reclining chair, a heaven-sent gift for Amy. A beautiful harp sat on the floor next to the chaise. Although it was not Amy's harp, the instrument called to her. It was just waiting to be played.

Amy sat carefully on the chair, setting her mug on the table to the side. She reached forward and touched a string tentatively. The string softly vibrated, humming a low note that reverberated inside Amy's soul. _What to play_ … Amy searched her memories through all the works she had learned since her early childhood, combing from beginning to end for a piece that would challenge her mind and fingers equally. This work needed to resolve the day's stress, and that of the evening still to come. A high order, indeed, considering Amy's family would be involved.

 _Debussy. There it is._

Amy's fingers found the first notes, and she immediately fell into something of a trance, closing her eyes and allowing the sounds and the complex finger movements to take over her mind. The music wrapped itself inside Amy's conscious thoughts and emotions, and she willingly gave in to the demand of all her attention.

So much so, that she didn't notice the tall, handsome man who walked into the room behind her. He, however, did not fail to notice the dark haired beauty that sat within a few feet of him, facing the opposite direction. The gentleman was torn: something inside of him wanted to… no, _needed_ to reach out and touch this beauty, but he knew in doing so the music would stop and the moment would be lost for her.

So he stood, leaning against an upholstered chair in a dimmer corner of the room, watching and listening. And his heart grew more complete with each note; the heavenly melody seemed to satisfy a hunger for the beauty of the music he didn't know he carried.

The other hunger? The one within him for the beautiful woman so close to him, but still just outside of reach? Well, that he had carried for quite some time, and would for a little while longer yet.

The final notes of the selection danced joyously from the harp. Amy's arms fell softly to her sides; her fingers leaving the strings to vibrate into silence. Tears of joy, expressing her gratitude to whatever spirit gave her that gift, fell softly down her cheeks. Amy dabbed them away with her hand, and grasped once again for her tea. Cooler now, Amy finished off the cup, stood up, and returned to the desk.

Amy reached beside her to pick up the lip gloss, ready to reapply what had been lost after having drunk her warm beverage. The library door shut softly.

"Don't," a quiet voice gently commanded from behind her.

Amy turned swiftly toward the sound of the baritone voice that seemingly came from nowhere. Amy's face showed her initial shock, followed by a study in contrast of great joy and dismay.

"What are you doing here?" Amy hissed to him, at just below a whisper. The man cautiously released the handle of the door, the metal latch clicking faintly. All the while, he maintained eye contact with her.

Amy pondered this man, and their history together. It was interesting, in a way that Amy couldn't explain with all her education in the structure and function of the human brain. She could remember meeting Sheldon for the first time, in that coffee shop, all those years ago. The vivid memory proceeded through her consciousness… him offering to buy her a beverage, them sitting together, talking about their respective work and eventually sharing phone and Facebook information. Amy could remember intensely the way her heart seemed to beat a little faster that day. Amy initially chalked it up to a previously undiagnosed cardiac abnormality that she would attempt to study later, but those deferred studies would yield no satisfactory answer.

What Amy couldn't remember… was a time when she didn't love Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper, physicist. It was as though something inside of Amy had always loved Sheldon, even from the moment she came into being. The feeling was as natural as eating or sleeping. She only needed to find him – the other half of her soul – to make her very being complete.

Amy watched as Sheldon's smile reached out to her from the shadows. Then the rest of him emerged. He was a tall, dark haired, slender but muscularly defined man. Amy felt her heart and body long to reach out to Sheldon, as she had many times in the past.

But this time was fraught with danger.

Amy's intellect tried to take over the situation. "If my mother finds you here with me…" Amy's voice trailed off into the ether, as her will was losing ground. Sheldon strode confidently up to her, taking Amy into his arms without hesitation. Amy was no unwilling participant; she instinctively slid her hands up his arms and around his neck.

Sheldon's pale blue eyes appeared to darken as his irises retracted and pupils enlarged. Amy, helpless against the desire building within her, watched as his tongue reflexively darted briefly over his upper lip.

Sheldon slowly closed his eyes and leaned his face carefully in toward Amy's as if to kiss her, but stopped short of completing the act a mere few hairs' breadth from her lips. Sheldon could feel Amy's increased respiration rate; her heated, moist breath blowing gently against his face. For his part, Sheldon knew he was as near to breaking as Amy was.

Sheldon had first initiated a kiss with Amy on the fateful train trip years before, and it was gentle and ephemeral in nature. Sheldon's unplanned and unforeseen act had surprised even himself then. For Sheldon, kissing - previously thought to be an unnecessary risk of exposure to another person's germs, and wholly unsanitary – proved to be an enjoyable pastime.

Sheldon's eyes opened and he beheld Amy's questioning look. "And if your mother does find me here with you? What then…"

Sheldon didn't have the opportunity to finish. Amy suddenly closed the minuscule distance between them, claiming Sheldon's mouth with her own.

Whether it was the unquenchable fire within her body and soul for this man, or whether it was the unmistakable allure of taking the risk of being caught by her overbearing mother, Amy did not know. Perhaps, it was both. But in either case, it did not matter.

Amy's mouth ran into a pair of soft lips, gentle and warm. She ran her tongue across their seam, seeking access to what was inside. Sheldon, initially surprised by the voracity of her action, quickly found himself caught up in the storm Amy started within him. He granted her permission as easily as it was wordlessly requested. Amy ran her tongue across his, marveling all over again at the heat and texture she met there. Even more so, at the low moan she heard coming from her lover.

The sound emanating from Sheldon brought Amy sharply back to reality. What she desperately wanted, physically and emotionally, in this moment was truly out of reach. It would have to wait for another time… another place…

Amy reluctantly broke off the kiss. She pulled her hands back from around Sheldon's neck, while Sheldon maintained their bodies' intimate touch; his hands grasped tightly around Amy's waist. Amy's emerald eyes followed as she drew her hands slowly down the front of the crisp, white dress shirt, tucked neatly inside the obsidian suit coat he wore.

 _If only…_ she thought. Amy kept her eyes on his chest, watching as it rose and fell. She was unable to meet Sheldon's glance, afraid she would truly lose any willpower she had left. _How quickly_ _I'd have this off of you…_

Sheldon did not need prescience or telepathy to know what Amy thought. He knew the struggle she was battling, because inside of himself, Sheldon knew also the same battle… the same fire… the same heat.

And what Amy started in this moment and place, Sheldon suddenly was determined to finish.

Sheldon maintained a tight grip around Amy's waist with his left arm and hand, and brought his right hand upward. He raised Amy's chin, gently but unequivocally forcing her to look into his eyes. Amy saw the depth of his love and caring for her, and the heat of his passion that she had tasted before. That fire her actions this day had stoked was ready to burn…

Sheldon wasted no further time, and wordlessly took Amy's mouth back with his own. Amy's resolve was completely broken; it melted away in the pleasure his mouth gave to her. Once Sheldon was certain she wasn't going to try to break away again, he reached around her to find his hands meet at Amy's waist. They traveled upward, running across the silken fabric of her dress, until Sheldon met the edge of the garment, about midway up her back. Sheldon's hands came to rest on the warm, soft, exposed skin of Amy's back. How easy it would be to grasp the thinly veiled zipper just below his hands… free her from the confines of these ridiculous clothes… gain access to all her glory once again, and for all time…

This time, it was Amy's moan into Sheldon's mouth, with the promises of all that they had enjoyed together in the past being repeated this day and in all days to come… that caused Sheldon to simultaneously remember where they were, and want to forget everything else but the two of them.

 _Dear Lord_ , Sheldon thought with true reverence. Sheldon's intellect ultimately won the war over his endocrine system, and he took a small step backward, reluctantly allowing Amy her freedom from the immediacy of his embrace. _There would certainly be Hell to pay, were she to find us together here, although it is difficult to care right now…_

Amy's eyes appeared dark as night; they pleaded with Sheldon not to let her go. As Sheldon's pupils began to return to normal size, hers similarly took their lead from him. Both heart rates began to stabilize, breathing slowly returned to normal. Amy reached out and took Sheldon's hands in her own, closing the distance his step away had enforced between them.

"Sheldon…" Amy began, her head hung low in regret and sorrow.

"We can't. I know." Sheldon finished for her. He squeezed Amy's hands. Amy found her courage and looked into Sheldon's face. He was tranquil, more rational… but the love in those steel blue eyes was unchanged. "But I'm not sorry."

Sheldon smiled gently. The temperature in the room seemed to be returning to normal. Amy allowed herself to breathe once more.

"You might be if Mom finds you here," Amy teased him, returning to a calmer encirclement in his arms. She rested her head against Sheldon's chest, with her right ear listened to the sound of his heart. Sheldon reached up, and stroked her hair gently. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

And for a brief moment, there was peace in each other's arms.

The peace was shattered in a low tap on the door to the library. Sheldon and Amy immediately and instinctively separated, but there was nowhere for Sheldon to go, as there was no other door to access this room. There was nowhere to hide from the wrath that appeared to have found them after all.

The door creaked as it opened slowly on its old hinge. An older man, with greying hair and of a slightly shorter and stockier build than Sheldon peeked around the door.

The man spotted Sheldon immediately; the initial shock in his visage changed to merriment and understanding nearly as quickly. His eyes were kind; the creases surrounding them reflected many years of laughter. And this time was going to be no different.

"Oh, Sheldon," the older man chuckled softly, after he closed the door behind him. "You really are tempting fate being here."

"You _do_ know Amy's mother, don't you?" he continued to tease gently.

Sheldon was speechless; he nodded, and Amy ran, as best as she could, over to the new tenant of the room. This one, it appeared, was on their side.

Amy fiercely hugged the older man. "Uncle Mike!" she implored quietly. "You won't tell Mom, will you?"

Mike smiled down at his niece, the favorite amongst all his siblings' children. "No, sweetheart. I won't tell her."

Amy relaxed, and Sheldon began to feel a tightness leave his chest. She left her uncle's embrace, and returned to Sheldon's side. Sheldon reached over and took Amy's hand in his own.

Mike looked with great fondness at the pair. "You both should know, Amy's mother wasn't always this way."

Amy tilted her head slightly to the side. "What do you mean?"

Mike laughed… out loud at first, then realizing his near mistake, brought the volume down. "Amy, I was there when your mother brought your father home to meet your grandparents. There was no denying they were in love with one another. They could barely stand to be apart."

Mike continued, looking toward Sheldon. "Amy's grandparents were dead set against the match. Paul was 'only' a teacher; never good enough for their brilliant daughter who was headed to medical school. But Paul and Sarah were determined that nothing was going to stop them from being together.

Paul and Sarah married; it was a small civil ceremony conducted by a judge, as to keep the peace in the family. Soon after, Amy was on the way, which everyone hoped might have stemmed the trouble with our parents."

Mike smiled gently, with fond memories of his sister and her husband. Then his face turned sorrowful. "If only it hadn't been for that car accident…"

"Uncle Mike," Amy called to him, softly, reaching out to take his hand with her free one.

Mike sighed, and breathed in deeply to steady himself. He looked directly at Sheldon.

"Sarah loves Amy, unquestionably. She only wants the best for her daughter, and wants her to be physically and emotionally safe. I believe she loves you, too, Sheldon. You scared Sarah at first; she thought you were going to take Amy away from her, and she'd be left with nothing. She knows better now."

Mike continued. "But Sarah is afraid of history being allowed to repeat itself. She doesn't want either of you to lose the other, the way she did Paul. I know it's a silly superstition, but you being here, Sheldon…"

Sheldon nodded again, understanding the situation. "I know. It's tempting fate… bad luck to see Amy…"

Mike breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. For your understanding, and for loving my niece."

Sheldon words responded to Mike, but his eyes never left Amy's. "There's no need to thank me. Loving Amy is what I am meant to do."

Sheldon released Amy's hand, and cupped her face softly in his hands. He leaned down to Amy with the gentlest of kisses… a chaste kiss, reminding them both of a similar one on a train ride so long ago… across her willing lips.

"I'll meet you inside, OK?" Sheldon asked Amy. She nodded.

Sheldon reached the door and turned the handle. He looked back toward Amy, and took in the radiant beauty that was before him.  
The darkness of the tresses that framed her face…  
The deepest emerald green eyes that knew his very soul…  
The brightest smile that lit up the room and chased away all that was dark within his own spirit…  
The elegant simplicity of her gown: a solid silk, winter white without embellishment, rounded neckline with long sleeves, which fit closely to her curves and then fell straight to the floor…

"Uncle Mike," Sheldon nodded in deference to Mike in his leaving.

The grin Sheldon turned to Amy was infectious. "And Mrs. Cooper."

"Not just yet," Amy corrected Sheldon. Amy walked up to meet Sheldon at the door, a soft smile gracing her features. She gently stroked the side of his face with the palm of her hand.

"I love you," Amy whispered. "Yesterday, today, and always."

"And I you," Sheldon murmured in return.

Sheldon opened the door, and as he turned, the tail of his tuxedo swayed slightly. He passed silently through the doorway, and was gone.

Amy turned to her uncle. Mike could see that Amy was blessed in love, in the same way his sister had been granted love so many years ago. Perhaps what the future held for his niece would be kinder than it had been for her mother and father. Perhaps, this time, there would be a long life of love and happiness.

 _It is, after all, a church,_ Mike thought. _One can only pray._

Mike stepped forward toward Amy and offered her his arm. "Are you ready?"

"Just a moment," Amy replied.

She stepped past her uncle, back to the desk. Amy reached beside the mirror, and picked up her favorite lip gloss she had left there earlier. Amy reapplied the gloss, checked herself in the mirror, and turned toward Mike.

"Now, I'm ready," Amy stated.

Mike walked Amy down the hallway, to the entrance of the University Chapel. The doors swung open, to reveal a series of pews filled with family and friends on both sides, all of whom rose in one accord. At the end of the room stood the minister, and Leonard and Penny, who were standing up for them both.

Then Amy and Sheldon saw each other… certainly not for the first time, but seemingly so. Amy was suddenly filled with a sense of calm.

The ceremony... the flowers... the dresses and the colors and the menu choices, and especially all of the contentions with her mother. All of the things that had nearly made Amy and Sheldon regret having this special moment in their lives. None of it mattered.

Within a few minutes, they would be husband and wife. That was the only thing that _truly_ mattered.

Call it fate, a divine plan, or whatever you like. Some things are meant to be.

Amy grasped Mike's arm, and took her first step toward Sheldon and the rest of their lives together.

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A/N, part II: When I was an undergraduate student (more years ago than I care to admit), there was a lovely, small, non-denominational chapel on campus with beautiful stained glass... the type of place for a non-traditional couple to enjoy a small gathering for a beautiful moment in their lives... which was the genesis of this story. Thank you for sharing with me in it.


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